The Tin Man
by Vivacie
Summary: Everlee had been willing to overlook his faults, but when he ditched her, left her with unparalleled hurt she realized there was one thing about him she could never overlook. He had no heart. **Paul/OC**
1. The Man with no Heart

So, if you've read my previous stories, you'll realize I've already wrote a Paul/OC fanfic. Well, I like Paul to damn much and ever since his imprinting fiasco in Breaking Dawn, I've pretended it didn't happen. Thus another Paul/OC story. SCREW THE WHOLE BD PLOTLINE.

This is my creative block story.

OMG, "M" rated story. Not for innocent eyes. You've been warned.

* * *

It seems everyone has his or her life planned out. A certain goal here, a date set out for when you would get married (no matter if you didn't have a love interest), when you'd get that dream car- well, I can tell you now I'd never plotted a damn thing in my entire life. I was lucky to pick out clothes for the next morning and that was pushing it.

I had never planned to lose my virginity to Mr. Good-Looking. Especially after just three dates and in the back of his mama's Honda. Mr. Good-Looking also known as Paul MacAlister, sex god on legs who gives as good as he gets thought all women were his to take. Which was why most of the La Push population had had Paul between their legs at one point or another. Small, round, tall, chubby, you name it he's had it. Gods gift to women that was Paul.

Maybe I should have been put off by that _huge_ fact, but I was willing to overlook his certain history. I had managed to survive sixteen years with keeping my virginity I figured going out with Mr. Good-Looking would be easy and still have a few more years of living the virgin life.

Boy was I wrong.

First date: I should have seen through the lingering touches, the hand that was always on my waist, the way he stared at me for a moment as if he could see right through me, and more than anything, I should have noticed the promise in that goodnight kiss. That night I opened my heart to him and I found myself awaiting the next kiss.

Second date: Promise was fulfilled. Paul had kissed me like no other. Like someone with experience under his belt and then some. It came naturally to him, he oozed masculinity, and it was this night I noticed the chemistry. I was straddling him and somehow, I had lost my shirt and he had lost his pants. I had never known a tongue could be thrilling, used in so many different ways. When my bra had been shucked, he showed me how his mouth was used for more than just kissing. By the end of the date, my breasts were throbbing from pleasure and I had a distinct wetness centering on my under things.

His mama had walked in, looked at us as if she saw this everyday, and walked straight to her room.

I was mortified. Even more so, when I realized my pants were unbuttoned. If not for his mamas intervention I would have lost all my sense. Paul didn't stop me when I walked out of his house. Not even a goodbye or a see you later. I was resolved never to see him again. He was bad for me, but for all the logic in the world, I knew I was falling for the guy who would only break my heart. Guys like him didn't settle down. He roamed and prowled and stalked his prey. It just took me a while to realize I was just like all the other females in his life. Easy.

By definition, I _wasn't_ easy. Just where Mr. Good-Looking was concerned. He made my clothes come off, made all coherent thought float out of my brain till there was only one thing: sex (and keeping my hands on his sexy body).

I did what any normal, scared girl would do. I ignored him. I thought that would work.

That was what I got for thinking.

Paul was constantly there. Apparently, when he decided he wanted something he put his full attention on it. As much as I liked chocolate, I chunked it in the garbage. When he waited for me beside my car blocking my entrance, I climbed in the passenger side and wormed my way to the drivers' seat, never missing a beat. At lunch, when he would sit by me, I'd use my hair as a curtain.

I had effectively dodged all his attempts, until that fateful day. It had been a Saturday, one of the only days I didn't have to worry about Paul (or so I thought), and my dad was having another one of his raging fits. Him and mom called each other names, he threw nasty names my way, and he threatened to leave us taking the house and cars away saying we'd never get a penny. It was his threat to get my mom to do whatever he wanted and it always worked. She wasn't a strong woman to begin with and couldn't stand the thought of being out on her own with a teenage daughter.

Never one to stay at home during a fight, I had sailed through the front door and straight into Paul MacAlisters' arms. He had been waiting for me, poised with his hand raised in the air.

He had used that hand to smooth the back of my hair and trace the length of my jaw, "Change your mind?"

At the time, all I could think about was getting away and an escape into Paul's special woman loving paradise seemed like a nice trade. I had smiled and nodded and that was that.

Third date: The Honda had been small with a spacious backseat; the air had been on while he drove to a secluded spot. He never asked about the yelling match that occurred and I never volunteered any information. My palms had been sweaty with anticipation and when he stopped, cut the motor, and swung his gaze my way I knew his intentions.

I just hadn't known how far his intentions would go or that I would let him.

We started out in his seat, pushed all the way back. Like last time, my clothes went first and he used his magical mouth on me in ways that had me begging for more. My hands had tangled in his hair holding him to my breast while he nipped the skin and swirled his tongue. One of his hands supported my back and the other worked its way in my shorts. His hips bucked up and delicious friction ensued.

"So sweet." He had panted, his breath coming out in shorter bursts.

Paul's finger had spied that sensitive little spot that worked me up into a frenzy. I had instinctively tried to close my thighs, but he was having none of that. He just continued, inserting a finger in and out, in and out, using his thumb to keep me to the point of no control. Just when I was about to spin out he was pushing me away, directing me to back seat, I complied. It was cramped for two people, even with the seats pushed up.

Things had gone too far, but he wasn't stopping and neither was I. In his haste, Paul had forgotten a condom and like a good girl, I had had no use for birth control. That was our second mistake our first was even thinking about having sex. I was only sixteen, but back then, we were just two people caught up in mating. Doing something that had been done for millions of years, it was primitive.

An innocent was what I was, but I don't think Paul noticed that barrier when he drove inside me. He didn't notice the shock on my face or the pain that followed. He obviously wasn't schooled in hymens. My first sexual encounter had been a waste. It had been fast, it had been dreadful, and the worst part was that when Paul climaxed, he hadn't looked to see how I had taken it, just threw on his pants, worked his way to the front seat and started the car.

I had been dumped in front of my house with bloody clothes and no dignity, like a common whore.

With clarity, I had realized that's how he viewed women. Whores. There for his enjoyment. Pick'em and leave'em. It wasn't just about getting a nice ripe female to warm his bed; it seemed like vengeance of some kind. I was unlucky enough to be one of the ones left with his mark. However, I was lucky enough that my parents weren't home to see me in such a state. Puffy eyes, soiled, and hating men. Life had never seemed so dim.

Being just in my second of year of high school, like Mr. Good-Looking, Monday was a day I had come to dread facing. It was warranted, for I had my first run-in with him since the incident. My face had turned the color of a plum and he had laughed. The malicious kind that said my feelings were all one-sided, that he hadn't cared, all he had wanted was sex. His friend Jared had just gazed at me sympathetically and steered Paul on.

I had never cried so hard in my life.

Our relationship was at best, romantic in the beginning, with a chance of showers. It was just my imagination wishing that it had been romantic. His words had been for show, his sweeping niceties fake. The big rain cloud had been looming over us from the very beginning. This time, our relationship was nonexistent. It was over before I had time to notice.

A few weeks later Jared and Paul went missing around the same time that I noticed my period was late.

Turns out, he got the flu and I got his bun in the oven.

* * *

Pauls an asshole, right? I love it. MWHAA.

This chapter basically explains what happened in the past. While the girls' name wasn't mentioned, you should know that her name is Everlee May. Yes, Everlee May is an ode to Evelyn (a previous OC). I did this on purpose, y'all.


	2. Beauty and the Beast: We Meet Again

The ending of this chapter wouldn't have been as sexy without the help of my muse April- I can't thank you enough for helping!

* * *

A lot of things reared its ugly head the month I found out I was pregnant. Most I didn't want to think about. Most I had no choice but to think about. It seemed about every time I got rid of one problem another arose. I had naively thought my parents would take my pregnancy fine after they got used to the idea. A knocked-up teenage daughter isn't the epitome of every parents dream, I learned. Broaching the subject was difficult, excruciating even, but mom caught on right away after a few tactful sentences. Her face had paled, becoming a ghastly white, while her eyes had filled with tears of shame. Dad had been shocked, and then enraged, which was his normal self as of late. My gut had dropped to the deepest part of the ocean. No amount of salvaging could save it.

I had never been called so many nasty names at one given time. Dad had said I confirmed his worst suspicions. I was a good for nothing daughter who got what she deserved. I wasn't worth my weight in salt and that I should have been put in a whorehouse so I would have at least made some money. He had slapped me and told me vehemently, "You are a disgrace, Everlee May! To think you are of my flesh disgusts me. I want you out of this house before you taint your mother and me with your selfishness!"

Occasionally I had disliked my family. I had never outright hated them. Dad was mean, but that was a product of his childhood (his mother had instilled the fear of God in him, while his father had chosen another more painful way of instilling fear), he had never hit me, belted me once or twice, but never beat me. We had never been close, but it wasn't to the point that we were strangers. Until that day. I had found out what my dad truly thought of me. There were no words for me to say to him. His claims were false, they were hurtful, but I had had worse by the way of Paul. No man can make you feel beautiful and ugly all at the same time without getting hurt in the process.

Mom had just looked at me, as though dads words had fell on deaf ears. She hadn't even tried to dispute him, but I kept hoping. Her worst quality was ignorance, "How can you live with the shame? What will your friends think?" She gasped then, her hands flying to her pouty mouth so much like my own, "What will my friends think of me? Oh, Charles!"

My chin had tilted, going into a stubborn but determined angle, "I have nothing to be ashamed of. I may not have done the right thing, but I regret nothing." Which may or may not have been the truth. I regretted getting involved with Paul, but having a live human inside of you was a totally different thing. "Are you going to let him kick me out of the house?" My voice had cracked halfway through. I remember the wait she put me through, her eyes turning to dad silently asking my voiced question. If she had voiced the answer herself, things might have been different, but her silence and my dads' grunt of disapproval had my opinion of her going down. It had already been ground level, it hit rock bottom in a matter of seconds.

Dad had said I had until the next week to leave, giving my mom a little wiggle room (as if she had attributed to his decision), but he'd rein her back in with false threats. I couldn't live like that and for the first time I felt sorry for her, but I had done one better. I had packed my bags and left that same night. Never turning back. Never telling them where I went. They had made it clear I was nothing to them, just a daughter who had turned out wrong. I hadn't been able to take my treasured Digimon collection from when I was a kid, I only took what I deemed necessities: clothes, a few shoes, a handheld videogame system, jewelry my late granny had given me, pictures, a few books, an emergency pre-paid cell, and my favorite stuffed animal.

My dads' first wife, Cindy (who I loved dearly), had taken me in. Back then, if I had known she was suffering from cancer and would eventually die two years later, I would have tried to be less of a burden, maybe tried to move somewhere else. She never told me, so I stayed with her in that little blue house with the spacious backyard (which later became mine, as per her will). Cindy had a son, Will, whom was my dads' first child. Will was twenty-seven at the time, married, and had a beautiful baby boy. My brother became a staple in my life, filling in for my dad. I had been grateful for his guidance.

After that, I made my first real decision as a future mom. Yes, there had been no option for me when I found out I was pregnant- a little baby right under my heart. I would keep the baby because I wasn't like Paul, I had a moral conscience. I had had to think was best for my baby. What was best for me might not have been best for my child, so I had thought long and hard. There had been really only one answer. I had quit school and worked odd jobs until my stomach grew so large I couldn't conceal my pregnancy. Another decision I made was a personal one. One that Cindy didn't agree with and one we often argued about.

I hadn't told Paul. He had a right to know, he _was_ the father, but how many other women had he impregnated? Hundreds? Millions? (OK, that was pushing it.) There was no telling. Could I let my child be faced with his promises only to be left cold and hurt? No. It had made my heart ache with the thought. I had kept it my painful secret.

My pregnancy moved smoothly and by June, two months after I had turned seventeen, I had given birth to healthy baby girl who looked just like her daddy. She only favored me in the mouth, but her light brown hair was a token to her mixed heritage. I had taken one look at her pretty face and fell in love her. Promptly naming her Madeleine. Everything about my little girl was perfect, from her dimples to her high-pitched laugh. It had been sad, I thought, that Paul couldn't see what an angel he had given me. Paul might have been heartless; however, his daughter was anything but!

* * *

**Three years later**

It started just after Madeleine's third birthday. Things were getting tight and in return, I was forced to work more. Sure, the money Cindy had left to us was more than enough, but I had dutifully put almost all of it back, saving it for Lynnie's college. I wasn't a fan of daycare. Too many accidents, too many kids. Instead, I looked to my brothers' wife, but even she couldn't keep up with two toddlers everyday. At last, I turned to the mothers of La Push. Someone who could watch my little girl when no one else could.

My elderly neighbor had informed me that Emily Young, now a Uley, was by far the best young woman for the job. There was only one hitch: I knew all about Emily and who came and went from her house. Mr. Good-Looking being number one on that list. It was unintentional, every time I heard Pauls name my mind would grab at it and store it. I had collected information so varied that I doubted most of it. I doubted it because Paul wasn't the same man, gossip said he wasn't sleeping around and that he held a steady job within the La Push Tribal Council. I couldn't dispute the last part, I knew for fact he worked with Sam, therefore it made him important. What was unbelievable was that Paul would give up women. The sex god womanless? The thought had me into a giggling fit and just as quickly, a moody silence. Had he found someone steady? Someone that changed his ugly ways? I figured that part to be a big lie. I also figured out where my daughters' hot temper came from. It was said that now Paul was unapproachable, even more so than before. No one liked to get near him for no one knew when he would snap. I'm sure I was borderline obsessed. One of those crazy exes's you always hear about. The only difference was that I had yet to kill anyone. Yet being the key word.

While Emily may be a great babysitter, Mary Poppins worthy even, could I really leave my daughter there with her father so close in the vicinity? _Please_, the real problem was I didn't want to have to see Paul. All this time I had managed to avoid him. My job in Forks was just that, a way to avoid working at the local La Push scenes. I was so scarce that I usually wasn't recognized at first. I didn't grocery shop in La Push, didn't dine out, didn't do anything fun. It hit me that I was a bit paranoid. Most people didn't even know I had a kid.

It was one of those times I had to suck up my fear or cut back on my job. While the latter seemed wonderful, realistically I knew I needed someone to watch Lynnie on Mondays and Wednesdays.

With a groan, I slipped out the paper I had sandwiched and reluctantly dialed the Uley residence.

It hadn't even rung once when a familiar voice said, "Hello?"

My heart stopped beating and a thin spray of perspiration built itself on my upper lip. The words I wanted to speak were lodged in my throat. With a shiver working down my spine, I knew it was Paul. When you speak of the devil, he shall appear.

The voice growled another hello before I responded, "Hi is Emily home?" I was well aware my voice had pitched two octaves higher and was a bit breathy.

He grumbled something else when another answered, "This is Emily."

I put it out of my mind when he didn't recognize my voice, why would he? I gave an inaudible sigh, pushing it out of my mind. The potential babysitter sounded cheerful enough, that was a good start, "Emily, this Everlee May, I don't think we've ever met before, but you were recommended by a friend-"

Emily laughed, cutting off my anxious babble, and I could just imagine her nodding while she did so, "You must need a babysitter."

"That's right, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no, of course not, but-"

I knew right away what she was thinking, "Before we commit to anything I'd love for you to met Madeleine first, to make sure everything would be okay."

This seemed to satisfy her, "Are you free tomorrow? Say ten?"

And just like that, I had agreed to meet Emily at her house that next day. I was nervous as hell, but the plans were set and all I had to do was act. I had a bad feeling and it wasn't just my contact with Paul for the first time in years. Well, it was a one-sided contact- whatever it counted in my book. My plans always went awry at some point or another.

* * *

"Mommy, you look pwetty."

My toddler was sporting her finest skirt adorned with flowers and beads. Her shirt was one of her favorites with Mickey Mouse and her sneakers were firmly in place (and for the first time on right feet!). We both had our hair pulled up in high ponytails, the only difference was my hair was the color of ginger and had subtle waves.

I had just finished applying the last bit of mascara to frame my brown eyes when a little hand snatched it and started to twist the top.

"Lynnie wants pwetty eyes too."

"Lynnie already has pretty eyes. Does mommy look alright?" I twirled once, though the effect was lost on a three year old. She just nodded her head, her ponytail flying. I sighed and kissed her chubby cheek and turned to take another peek in the mirror.

I looked fine for being twenty years old and a mother. Although, I had more hips than I desired and my stomach could use a bit of toning, but all that was natural. My jeans were straight cut, flattering my size ten shape. The pale pink shirt I wore was scooped and fitted. Shoes were nondescript, ones I had had for years thanks to a huge sale. I really needed to update my wardrobe but the thought of shelling out a few hundred made me cringe.

A hand pulled impatiently at my pant leg, "Go now?"

Madeleine looked more and more like Paul everyday. With her face upturned, a frown on her pouty lips, she reminded me of years past. If the two, Lynnie and Paul, were in the same room, surely anyone with half a brain could see the resemblance. An unfamiliar knot twisted itself in my stomach. Right then and there, I knew I was in deep trouble.

Emilys was just a drive away, not nearly enough time to set my mind to rights, but as she stepped out of the front door, I knew I had made a good choice for Lynnie. Although her scars were fully healed, they still marred her face. Her hair was pulled to the nape of her neck, as if daring someone to say something. I had already told Lynnie to be on her best behavior, but we were both used to scars. I even had a nasty one on my thigh where I had had to catch Lynnie when she climbed up on the counter and jumped. Just thinking about that time made my heart race, but I had become more careful when I left chairs out. Lynnie was a climber, the higher the better.

Emily greeted me with warmth and immediately turned her attentions to Lynnie, "You must be Madeleine. My, aren't you cute as a button. My name is Emily."

In exchange, Lynnie grinned, showing her toothy smile, but said nothing.

I apologized, "She's shy around strangers since she hardly meets anyone. It might take some coaxing…" I trailed off, looking uncertain.

Emily motioned for me to follow her, "Let's talk about it inside. I finally have the house to myself and I intend to make full use of it!"

The tension seemed to drain out of me at her words. We were going to be alone! The news had me smiling in relief. For some reason I thought _he_ might have been here, it had been bugging me all morning and for nothing!

Emily's house was on the small side, but with a spacious kitchen with newer looking appliances. Flowers seemed to pop out of nowhere adding fragrance and beauty. She knew how to take care of things, that was for sure. While I took a seat, Emily brought out cookies and Lynnie instantly lit up saying a little thank you and then munching out.

"You're not new here, are you?"

The only thing I could do was go with the truth. There was no use in fibbing, I might forget something and I'd be exposed, "No, I've lived here all my life. I own Cindy Connors old house." Better to be safe than sorry.

A light seemed to go off in her head, "I had heard she took in someone, but she didn't say much."

"Yes, I asked her not to. The circumstances were…" I shook my head, not wanting to trudge that out, "We weren't related by blood, but I'm Wills half-sister."

She gave me a thoughtful nod while she digested that information, "How old is Madeleine?"

"Just turned three a few weeks ago."

"You're so young."

My face hardened and my chin started to tilt up, "Twenty. I might have been hardly more than a child when I had her, but I've made the best of it."

It was suddenly as if I were some rare specimen. Her eyes were intent on my face and then the gazed quickly over at Lynnie, "It's none of my business, but couldn't her father look after her?"

I could feel myself start to get fidgety at the mention of her father, but I shook myself, saying it was only natural to be curious, "No. He doesn't know about her. That's for the best." _For both us_, I mentally added.

Emily surprised me by saying, "When would I have her?"

My mouth opened a little, parting in shock and delight, "Mondays and Wednesdays. Wills wife watches her the rest of the time and I don't work weekends."

"Any allergies?"

"Carrots."

"Well, she's not the only one with a carrot allergy." She was smiling and doing her signature head nod.

"Oh?" My interest was peaked.

"I don't keep carrots around because of Paul. Have you met Paul MacAlister? Well, if you haven't I'm sure you'll meet him soon."

A strained grin snapped up, "That would be lovely." I lied through my teeth. It seemed my daughter was becoming more Pauls. She looked like him, had his temper, laugh, and even had his allergies! What if she met him and came to love him more than me, her own mother?

Madeleine took that moment to crawl up into my lap and lay her head on my shoulder, "Mommy, Lynnie sleepy. Nap time, pwetty please?" How could I ever thought that about this sweet angel? She was a mama's girl, through and through. I was just jealous. Plain and simple jealousy.

Emily cooed over her for a moment while looking a tad forlorn. I wanted to ask if she had any of her own, but her house showed otherwise. It wasn't any of my business, I told myself.

"Looks like baby bear is tired. This Monday at eight too soon for you?"

"That's fine."

I had gotten as far as my car when the back door banged open. Emily gasped and waved me a quick goodbye. Never in my life had buckled a child up so fast, I was in the driver's seat before the first half-naked man came out the door. I recognized him as Sam Uley, but he was big as a bear now, not how I remember him being. The second was the one I tried so hard to forget, but never could. He was taller than before with a strange stoic expression on his face that didn't quite look right. Paul had always been in good shape, but now he was more muscular with definition. There was a dirty novel look to him, the ones that showed naked men with women thrown over their shoulders- he was still sexy. I could see why people avoided him. He looked mean, dangerous, as if the world was his enemy.

My neck prickled with unease as I slowly pulled out of the driveway. Paul glanced at the car but it gave it no second look. A frown formed on its own accord. I had driven the same vehicle since high school; surely, he wouldn't remember it. Of course, Emily would mention she was taking on a new kid, so she'd mention my name. Would he remember? The question was: did I want him to remember? Just because I still found him attractive didn't mean anything. I was quick to remember old wounds and why I wanted to avoid him.

Then he took another look, as if he _did_ recognize something about it. Whether it was the car or me in general, I wasted no time hightailing it out of there.

That marked the beginning of some of the most erotic fantasies I've had in quite a while. It comes to stand that I'm not the most eligible girl in town, but that didn't mean I didn't occasionally wish I had someone to wrap myself up in. My dreams seemed to think Paul was the prefect thing to fill in for my lack of bedroom excitement (unfortunately, I was still a one-man woman, though I had taken precautions and got put on birth control). His lack of a shirt had fueled the imagination, along with long forgotten sensations. I would be lying if I said I didn't like it. There was no stopping it.

* * *

Monday went off without a hitch. I met only Emily at her door that morning and only her that afternoon. She mentioned nothing of Paul, so obviously he hadn't said anything or noticed anything important. I was beginning to think I might just make it after all.

Wednesday, however, was a different story entirely- one that would have me cussing for months to come. I had just picked up Madeleine when she started to whine about having a brand of cereal I had never heard of. Not only that, but she declared she deserved an ice cream sandwich for being such a good girl.

With a sigh that was more out of resignation, I pulled into the Ateara store. I had only been here once since moving, but with that visit I didn't have Lynnie with me. I should have realized it was a breeding ground for La Push activity via Sam Uleys 'gang.' Certain things seem to slip your mind with a yelling toddler.

Lynnie was still bundled in her rain gear, much thanks to Emily, for a drizzle had started. She giggled when a few drops hit her head.

"Wet, mommy, wet!"

Hunched over, to protect her from the rain as best I could, I jogged to the entrance. The bell dinged as we entered and I disentangled Lynnie from myself and brushed the stray drops of water from her face. Her chubby hand grabbed mine and together we started looking for the cereal. I hadn't looked to see who was manning the store. The three year old occupied my full attention.

"What did it look like?"

Her cheeks puffed a bit and she eyed the boxes thoughtfully, "I don't know."

I bit my lip, "Was it chocolate cereal?"

"No." She paused, "It was like the rainbow, mommy!"

I couldn't stop the smile and laugh, "Baby, was it Fruit Loops? The rainbow cereal?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her boots squeaking on the tile floor as she ran to grab a box.

"We have them at the house. Come on; let's go get that ice cream."

Her brows shot down and I could see the little gears working in her head, "But we need some more!"

The trials of having a kid who never outgrew her terrible twos. "No ma'am, we already have two boxes at home. We don't need another."

"Yes we do!" She stomped her foot and crossed her arms.

"You keep this up and you'll get no ice cream." And a butt whooping, if she started a tantrum in public. She was prone to tantrums even though she knew I'd whoop her, it was something that just wouldn't break.

Madeleine pouted for the final time, a few crocodile tears escaping, and then grabbed hold of me once more. She wasn't as happy as before, but knowing Lynnie she'd forget about it soon enough. The frozen bin was up front beside the checkout counter. Quil was there and he waved a half-hearted greeting, and then went back into bored cashier mode. Lynnie, who had her nose stuck to the glass trying to figure out what she wanted, was too busy to notice when another man appeared behind Quil.

It was Jared and as soon as he saw me, his eyes widened slightly. He recognized me right away.

"Everlee." Jared said quietly, as if he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.

"Jared."

"You're alive. I should've figured when Emily mentioned your name, but _wow_."

I blinked, startled. "When was I anything but?"

He leaned closer, amazement evident on his face, "You went missing sophomore year. No one could find you, there was no news. Everyone assumed you were either dead or ran off."

"I dropped out around the same time you and Paul," I really had to force his name out, "went missing. I should think that was the bigger topic. And what do you by '_everyone'_?"

Jared grimaced and scratched his head, "Well, not everyone. Just the ones who knew what happened between you two." My jaw clenched shut. Rumors were what I knew would happen. When you're not there you can pretend rumors don't exist. I wasn't shallow enough to truly care about rumors I cared because my past was coming back to haunt me, "We thought you left 'cause of Paul."

There it was. Everyone knew everything. You couldn't spit on the road without there being an uproar. "You were wrong. I never truly left."

"It's just," He seemed to struggle for a moment, "the timing was bad. Speculation was that Paul killed _you_ of all things. That wasn't true, but it didn't stop it from being said. Especially because most thought the timing was just _too_ perfect. Paul had a hell of a time trying to convince them otherwise. It would have been funny if it wasn't for…" Jared coughed covering up his blunder. His cheeks seemed to flush, "I have a question, one that's been bothering me."

For some strange reason the hair on my neck came to attention. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or maybe it was something else entirely- like in those horror movies. The tiny convenience store, just before dark, the three adults inside all unprepared for the monster outside. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The men were always killed first for the reason they simply couldn't handle a female dieing in front of them- yet a woman could deal with two bloody corpses? _Please_. I with held a grimace, no more late night movies for me.

When I just shrugged, he took that as the green light, "Where were you when Paul and I came to visit?"

I opened my mouth to speak several times, I swear I did. I hadn't meant to look like fish trying to get oxygen or a brainless bimbo. I think I succeeded at both.

"You weren't there. This was around the time when you left, if that helps any."

"Paul…he went to my house? _Why_?"

It was his turn to shrug, "He wanted you to come back, clear up the rumors."

So _that_ was where his reputation came from. I was his problem, his chip on the shoulder you could say. Get me to show up and he's back on the market. Did women really think he'd kill them? Bet that put a damper on his sexual needs, but knowing Paul…

"We even staked out, but you where never there. Why's that?"

They had tried to _stalk_ me? My temper didn't flare up as I thought it would- this was old news that was just new news. "We moved."

He made a sound of disapproval, "Your family was there. _We_ would have included them, it was just _you_."

"_Fine_. I moved. Just me." I said exasperated.

Jared seemed pleased, as if he just found another piece of a puzzle, "The weird thing was your dad took one look at Paul and declared 'it' his fault. Then shut the door in our faces."

"Huh."

"It was his fault, is it referring to your moving or…?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?"

"Why'd you drop out again?"

At the same time he said that last question my little angel begged to be picked up, "Rainbow popsicle, mommy!"

Ever since I had met Paul, my problem free life had gone up in shambles. It was a common occurrence that if one thing went wrong, other things would surely follow. Didn't trouble come in threes? I knew what Jared was thinking when he looked at Madeleine. After all, we had been in the same classes for years and I knew Jared. Things were steadily going down hill. Maybe I should have skipped La Push and settled somewhere else, that way I wouldn't have to deal with this. Too late now.

"You have a daughter."

"That's right." My voice dared him to say something. I wasn't used to giving nonverbal threats (or was this intimidation?) to men a hundred pounds heavier than I was, I found out quickly I was not to be taken seriously.

Jared smiled sweetly at me and handed Lynnie a lollipop that had been in one of the jars on the counter, "Hey, how old are you, cutie?"

Lynnie stuck out three fingers. I wished right then and there that I could beat my head against the door. To be unconscious for a few hours would be a blessing, and I would have done just that if Lynnie hadn't been in the vicinity. Nothing else quite says your mom is psycho like when she's beating herself to death with the doorjamb.

"_No_." He hissed at me, things were already coming full circle, "Tell me she isn't-"

Quil interrupted, coming out of his daze, "What? What did I miss?"

I ignored him, "That's none of your business, Jared, and you know it."

"He's my best friend, if it's his kid he deserves to know. _I_ happen to know you didn't sleep around." He leaned heavily against the counter as if some thought was too much to bear, "_That's_ why you dropped out _and that's_ what your dad meant. You were pregnant." Jared just stared at Lynnie, his eyes going soft, "She looks just like him. Look at that stubborn jaw." He laughed slightly, smiled a small sad smile, and sobered. Just like that. "What were you thinking when you didn't tell him?"

Lynnie was quiet for the moment, content with her new gift. I knew it was stupid of me to confirm it, but I did anyway, "She's all I have, Jared. Don't go run your mouth and have her taken away from me."

Jared clamped a hand over Quils arm before he had time to interrupt again, "Give me one good reason."

I glared at Jared, wishing he would burn up before my eyes. I had never wished ill will on anyone; I guess I had to start somewhere, "Back then, Paul was wild. Even you can't deny that. If I had come up to him, saying he was the father, he would have laughed himself to death. I wasn't about to tie myself to someone who couldn't keep it in his pants. I wasn't about to let my daughter get involved with a man who treated women like crap. Is that enough for you or do I have to go on?"

A little hand placed itself on my mouth, "Mommy mad. Bad guy go away. Make mommy upset. Lynnie cry."

Her sad eyes were filling with tears and I was suddenly sorry I had sounded so mean, "Mommy is just arguing with an old friend. No reason to cry, baby bear." She buried her head in my shoulder and settled down, hiccupping slightly. She was such a good girl at times when I needed it most.

"Meet with him." Jared said suddenly, "He needs the family, Everlee."

I scoffed. "Are you insane? The exact reason I've avoided all things La Push is so I wouldn't have to see him." I didn't comment on the family thing. I didn't like having feelings about Paul- even minimal lusty feelings.

"What are you so afraid of?" The answer must have shown on my face because he was hanging his head while he murmured, "You don't want to fall in love with him again, huh?"

"I was never in love with him." He gave me a sharp glare, "Honest. I'm not. I had _feelings_ for him, but I couldn't describe it as being in love with him. Why in hel-" I glanced down at Lynnie who was struggling to stay awake, her lollipop in her mouth. I restarted my sentence choosing more child friendly words, "Why in devil are we talking about this? Ring up two ice creams, Quil. I'm going home."

"I don't think so."

I froze mid-action, my back to the new voice. Fear gripped me and my knees wanted to shake in my ten dollar shoes. Instead, I straightened my spine, keeping myself where my back was to him. It was too soon! Way too soon! Why was Paul here at this moment in time? Couldn't he have been out baking cookies with his new friends? No, he was terrorizing me. In my dreams, in my thoughts, and now, right in front of me.

"Now, Paul, let the lady explain-"

"Don't recall Everlee May ever being a lady." He drawled, as if he had no care in the world.

My cheeks flushed out of both embarrassment and anger. Nope, Paul hadn't changed, not even to a slight degree. I didn't know whether to strike him or give him a tongue lashing or both. My instincts told me to protect my daughter's innocence, whether it be curse words or innuendos, no one talked dirty in front of my child.

The words being formed on their own seemed to have a different idea entirely. "Don't recall Paul MacAlister ever being a Saint, but then one wouldn't with a reputation like yours."

I didn't hear his feet when he approached. He was like the wind, blowing wherever it suited him, "You'd know first hand, wouldn't you?" His breath was on my neck and I could feel my skin start to turn into gooseflesh. It was the worst and best sensation.

"I know better than anyone how cruel you can be."

"Cruel?" His fingers seized my upper arm, sliding down it slowly, intimately, "If I remember correctly, you were moaning with pleasure." When had his voice ever been that sexy, I wondered. When had it ever been so gosh damn deep and inviting. I didn't like it. Not one bit.

We were playing a game. A dangerous one that made me want to bury myself under a blanket and cry. This was one of those moments I wished I had a best friend or maybe my mom was with me, but I had neither. Being a big girl would be what I'd tell Lynnie, instead I was trying to tell myself that. We weren't facing, that suited me just fine- I didn't want to see his face.

Lynnie was fast asleep, thankfully oblivious to the surroundings and improper words, "Wrong. What you heard was a girl crying because the guy she was with didn't give a lick about her virginal status."

I hadn't meant to be so blunt. My words were enough to still his roaming fingers, but not his tongue, "I didn't use a condom."

"And I didn't have an abortion." When I swung around, I was hit with the full effect of Mr. Still Good-Looking. His eyes were wide and looked unfathomably deep, so black they were an abyss and they were glued to the sleeping form nestled in my shoulder with a hand clutching at my breast. The line of his jaw was stronger and it led down to a sturdy column of highly attractive neck muscles and shoulders. The long hair I remembered had been cut. It was just long enough to run your fingers through (not that I wanted to). If I had thought he looked a little more muscular when viewed from a car, I was definitely sure now. The sleeveless shirt he wore did nothing but accentuate the curves in his arms. He practically had a stamp on his forehead that said, "Fuck me." It was all just too much.

"Thanks for the rousing conversation. Jared. Quil." I nodded to each of them.

And then I walked out without a backwards glance, leaving the ice cream and Paul behind. I guess my luck was with me again, because as I buckled Madeleine up, Paul still hadn't come out. Was he as shocked as I was? Somehow, I had a feeling nothing shocked Paul. He just wasn't the shocking type. I shook my head clearing the daze; I had used the same word to much. My brain was literally fried crispy on the outside and was gooey on the inside.

Home didn't seem welcoming this time. All I saw was a big empty bedroom, a house that gave love, but didn't receive quite enough of it. Maybe I was finally feeling the blues. I had a great little girl that supplied me with an infinite amount of love and happiness, but I was feeling a different type of loneliness. It was all Jared's fault. I'd never been buddy-buddy with him and today I found myself spilling my heart. What was worse was that Paul had overheard. What was it when you found yourself in the situation that you yourself created?

Karma.

If I hadn't stopped to chat with Jared, I might have avoided that whole confrontation. I was wishing to much these days. I needed to be happy with what I had and just deal with the rest of it in an adult like manner. What I really needed was a Kleenex.

After I had tucked away sleeping beauty, I settled into the couch, a big flowery one with well-worn cushions, and turned the TV volume all the way down. My nightly ritual. Some people have phases they go through before they sleep- a beauty routine or arranging everything so it's perfect for in the morning. Not me. I watch TV and pretend I have a life outside my job and kid. It might seem pathetic (it really is), but it was the best I could do. Usually, a pile of grapes or pickles were at my side as I snacked my way through the night.

Tonight was different. Right as I hit the remote I could already feel myself drifting off- I was too drained and the tears were already starting to leak out. I knew I should have got up and went to my own bed, but just as the thought occurred, it was lights out.

* * *

Something roused my sleep. I mumbled, thinking it was Lynnie, telling her to go back to bed. I was too far into dream world to really think, until I heard it again. A crack. Was my fridge having a seizure again? Damn thing needed to go to the junk yard…No. A knock? Someone was knocking on my door. Very insistently, I might add. I popped my back as I rose, glancing at the clock. Barely after eleven. I had been sleeping so soundly, too! Whoever this was had a death wish.

I was mentally exhausted from earlier this evening, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, and thinking a few more hours of sleep was just what the doctor would order. He'd also order a few shots and tell me to stock my fridge with beer (it was good thing I was underage and disliked alcohol or I was sure I would have fulfilled that order). I leaned against my door, which was solid oak, and not easily able to be broke in to. I liked security, but I knew it wouldn't keep a determined person with a handsaw or ax out. It was thought that counts.

"Who is it?" My voice was husky and just leaning there had my eyelids drooping. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi…

"You know damn well who it is, Everlee May. Let me in."

I made a choking noise and double-checked my locks. I was wide awake now. "Go away, Paul."

This seemed to anger him. "Any idea why I'm here? Wanna take a shot at it?"

"Jeez, I have no idea."

He banged once on the door, making me jump back a foot, "Don't play coy with me. Jared told me all about you and I want the truth. Do you hear me? The truth, Everlee!"

My finger produced a not so gentle gesture and I dearly wished he could have seen it, "From the other side of a door? You must be desperate or drunk. Go home, go away, and don't bother me anymore."

I stomped off then, almost colliding with Madeleine, "Mommy, I heard you talking. What is it?"

I swung her up into my arms and kissed her nose, "You remember the story I told you, the one about the big bad wolf and the three little pigs?" She nodded her head, her dark eyes large and round, "The big bad wolf is outside and he wants to be let in-"

"To eat the little pigs!" Lynnie giggled her sleepiness slurring her speech, happy she had remembered.

"That's right, but not by the hair on our chinny-chin-chins. Alright?"

"Bed, mommy. Lynnie still sleepy."

Once again, I tucked the sheets around her and laid a few stuffed animals near her arms. Like any little kid, a stuffed animal was a friend and should be in bed with her every night as to not get cold or lonely. They would get knocked off in the night, good thing they were in her bed and not mine. We exchanged kisses and blew them at one another before I shut the door of our room halfway.

What had begun as steady thumps were quickly becoming the equivalent of a pounding hammer. Even down the short hallway, I could here it. And what do hammers do? They break things. Crush things. Paul hadn't taken my advice and left. No, he was still there, using his muscle to make fist prints in my door.

I knotted my hands together as I strode to the front of the house. The sound only got louder as I went, "Stop knocking and go home."

"Not until you answer me."

"You'll break my door." I reasoned.

"Not my problem."

My nose flared. It'd be his problem all right once he was slapped with the bill. The dumb oaf!

"I can do this all night, Everlee. Either you talk to me or I'll make tonight and every night a living hell. Your choice."

I was absolutely sure he meant it. Unfair was one way to put it, coercion was another. I stole a glance toward the room where my three year old slept. A few more minutes of this and I'd have cranky toddler on my hands. This was when being a single mom became a slight pain. What I wouldn't give for a big man of husband to ward off any unwanted visitors.

If it had been just me, I could have probably ignored him, but I knew what I had to do, "_Fine_. You win."

The knocking stopped almost immediately when he heard the door locks being turned. I took a gigantic breath and twisted, cracking the door just a peek. Paul had another idea as he pushed it fully open so I came face to face with a rain-drenched chest. A mighty good-looking chest at that and thanks to the white shirt I had an excellent view of his nipples which were coincidently eye level. Magnificent male specimen. My throat worked to swallow as I continued my journey of exploring. Up and up until I locked onto his neck, my eyes following the trails of rain as they blended into his clothing.

Paul cleared his throat once, interrupting my ogling, "Are you going to move or not?"

Every sound roared back in my ears, like a shell you found on the beach that contains the baying of the ocean. I wasn't aware before but I was now being pelted with rain which Paul was taking the brunt of. I should have been furiously mad at myself for giving Paul the time of day and thinking that what I'd really like him to do would be to strip, very slowly, and then let me do the honor of touching him everywhere. Blood rushed to my face at my thoughts. They were becoming too daring. I was back to being a hormonal teenager. I pegged this for being payback for being (mostly) celibate the last three years. Paul just happened to be a handsome man, who just happened to turn me on quite a bit. What a pain.

Then I made another mistake, I looked at his face. First at his full lips, slightly parted and slick, and then further toward his eyes that seemed to mimic my lusty intentions.

Only one thought raced through my mind.

_Damn_.

* * *

There's been a whole lot of loving for this story.  
Thank you. It makes writing worthwhile. :3


	3. Seduction 101: Two Can Play that Game

**Chapter has been edited and rewritten as of January 18, 2012.**  
Some conversation was added and some paragraphs were taken out.

* * *

I was back in his mama's Honda all over again. At least, that was the general feeling. He didn't have his hands down my pants and his lips weren't on mine, but they didn't have to be. Just by being in the same room, with the same intentions running through our brain _that_ was sex, albeit a different unphysical type of sex without the risk of pregnancy. There had to be such a thing and if there wasn't, I just invented it.

Paul looked at me as if he was a starving man and I was the first thing that had been offered to him in a very long time. His eyes had widened, narrowed, and now they were focused solely on me. Only on me. It felt as if something weird was going on in my chest. My heart couldn't decide if it wanted to sprint and run the final distance of a marathon or to beat slow and steady as war drums. When Paul's eyes suddenly dipped, scanning down toward my nightshirt and then to my bare legs, I was almost positive I wanted spontaneously combust.

My nightshirt wasn't modest by any means, the neck hole was large and worn, big enough to show both my shoulders, and it hit just a few inches below my thighs. It was meant for optimum comfort. That was why it's called sleepwear. It was hardly appropriate attire, especially when one considered the man that was seeing it. I was sure he wasn't happy to see me, but he was looking a bit perky in his shorts.

A little voice in my head was warning me, ringing bells that I was determined to ignore, saying this was not okay. I didn't want another repeat of last time. I didn't want to be hurt again, while throwing my heart to the wolves, but at the same time, I wanted to see if anything had changed. If things were different. The other voice, the one forming an entirely different mental image, told me to jump him, get it over with, and kick him to the curb like last week's pizza box after it was over and done with. It was very conflicting and I wished my inner voice would shut up for once.

It sucked when your body wouldn't cooperate with you. It really sucked when your more sensible side was thinking of ways to get him into your bed (which was about fifteen steps down the hall and five the right, just saying). It disturbed me that I could be thinking about sex while remembering the past.

That wasn't it though. The past was just itself, it mattered, but it was still the past. You couldn't change it and worrying over it will solve nothing. The plain and simple version: I wanted Paul regardless of the past. Regardless that I was left feeling cheap and pregnant. Hell that was a personal problem, one I needed to come to terms with. Paul couldn't help that he was a man whore. I could hate him and curse him for eternity, but that didn't change the signals that were being sent. A great looking ass, toned abs, and a sexy V-cut that was clearly defined by his shirt sparked a freak physical reaction: Mr. Good-Looking was that type of person- he made people _want_ him. That was his allure.

The big bad wolf took a step toward me, a predatory step that made me instantly go on alert and my toes curl at his dominate pose. The breath caught in my lungs. I was immobile, stuck to the ground with something stronger than super glue. Like a deer caught in headlights, waiting…waiting…

Sometimes, the things we tell ourselves not to do, we end up doing regardless. No amount of lying to ourselves will rectify that. So, when Paul's hand landed on my forearm, I found myself swaying forward and into his warm embrace. His body was on fire. Not just warm, _hot_, _burning_, _feverish_. The heat that radiated off Paul was what turned me on. Too much, there was too much of him, consuming me in that cocoon of enticement. A tangible tension was in the air, an electrical charge, just waiting for the opportune moment. The air crackled while I stood in his arms, not touching anywhere except for those wet and inviting limbs crafted by the gods themselves. Then his head lowered, just enough to where I knew the intention, and something changed. Just a small flicker, but enough for me to be aware of it.

It was like being dumped in water with no air to breath. After a few minutes, you feel numb, almost cold, and then nothing. A clammy sweat broke out on my palms as I analyzed the situation. Paul was in control of himself. Sure, he was turned on with his dick the size of Mt. Washington, but did he actually _need_ me? No. He might have wanted to have a piece of my body, but me? I restrained a bitter laugh and a self-conscious blush. If he had wanted me, he wouldn't be able to calmly go in for a kiss. I wouldn't still be standing. He'd have me bent over the counter, pounding into me until I begged for mercy. No, his want wasn't like that- _because he had already had me_. He wanted information and he figured he could get it if he made poor Everlee May into human jelly. How correct he was. I would be the equivalent of a child's favorite toy in the hands of an all-powerful adult. What do adults do when toys are all used up? They _throw_ them away and go on as if _nothing_ ever happened.

I couldn't –wouldn't- put myself in that position again. If I did, could I really afford the consequences? If that was so significant, why didn't it cool the raging whirlwind at the pit of my stomach? Why did I want to be spread beneath him, to feel his muscled body gliding against mine? An idea formed and clicked in an instant. An idea so wicked that I had to double check my thoughts to see if had _actually_thought them. Indeed, I had.

If Paul wanted to play a game of chance, to see who caves first, I would oblige him. I would have Paul on my own terms, played with my own rules, of course. If that was the last thing I did, Paul MacAlister would be begging for the relief I could only bring. I'd make certain of it. Who said a permanent relationship was the only thing a woman could have? No strings. Casual sex. I certainly wasn't a promiscuous woman and I couldn't fault the idea of having a roll in the hay with a Mr. Good-Looking.

_Easy_.

I jerked myself backwards, deadening my face, and avoiding his glorious chest. He looked briefly frustrated as his arms automatically lowered. As I had thought, Paul wasn't dragging me back into his arms. My knees shook as I stepped aside and let Paul into the threshold. He was dripping all over the hardwood floor and that's the only thing that snapped me into action.

"I'll get you a towel." I said in a stiff voice. Better yet, I had gotten two and a robe for myself (Just because I was playing the role of temptress didn't mean I had to start _now!_), laying one in the kitchen chair he would sit in and handing him the other.

Paul stared at the towel in his hands for a good five seconds, then began rubbing down his arms and legs in a hypnotic motion. I wanted to ask if he wanted me to dry his clothes, but that was out. I didn't have any clothes that would fit him and I sure as hell didn't want him in my kitchen clad only in a towel. The image I conjured was impressive and I quickly stored it in the back of my mind- in the sexual fantasies section.

Be damned if I needed any more temptation!

To stop myself from staring as he bent over, I took out two orange sodas, popped both tops (a habit I had picked up thanks to my toddler), and placed them in their designated positions. I sat patiently or as patient as one could with an eight hundred pound gorilla in the room. Paul was perfectly at ease, as if this was his home instead of my own. It was certain he'd been in this position –both literally _and_ figuratively- many times before and for some odd reason it had my brow furrowing. He wasn't dating anyone and yet, I couldn't name one single time, or any one shred of gossip that included his latest squeeze. It hadn't occurred to me that I might be the only person alive interested in his personal life, but now that the idea had arose, I couldn't help but wonder if the information I overheard was entirely accurate. People liked to talk about what they didn't know and I had been eating it up like candy. Paul flavored candy that is.

Paul eyed his open drink and took one long gulp, enough to have to clear my throat awkwardly, before he smiled and folded his big hands on the table, "We started off a bit rough earlier. How are you, Everlee May?" He said in a diplomatic tone, much to reasonable for my taste, but the _way_ he said my name was intentionally erotic and quite possibly the sexiest way my name has ever been said. I wished he would say it again.

It rolled off his tongue and had my gut coiling just a little more, "Even I know you're not one for niceties, so skip over it will you?"

"I'm interested. Humor me."

_That_ was the flicker I had seen earlier, the self-control that seemed almost a vital part of him. It was enough to have me back step, "I've been doing incredibly, thank you." I let out a pent-up breath, blowing the air up and into my hair to tickle it, "That's not what you'd really like to hear, is it? My health, what I've been up to, or if I have enough food on the table. You'd really like to know about that tiny girl I carried, isn't that right?"

His gaze seemed to linger on the harsh line of my mouth, then as if realizing I was watching, he casually shrugged and looked elsewhere, "Something like that." A soft smile graced his face, gentling it to something I had never seen before. He was showing expressions I had never thought him proficient in. Paul, the expression wheel. Spin him round and round. What will he turn next?

My mouth wrenched open, parting for both shock and wariness. What had changed in the last few minutes? What had I missed? "Why are you acting like this?"

"Acting like what?"

"_Nice_." I hissed. "You were breathing insults down my back earlier. What's changed?"

The pulse in his jaw twitched, "I _am_ capable of being nice. Is there something wrong with that?"

Yes, I wanted to scream. Everything was wrong with it. Right down to the hands folded across my table and the relaxed look on his face. I wasn't an idiot. I knew change when I saw it. He couldn't pull the wool over my eyes. "Surprising that's all."

"Why?" He asked quietly, "Tell me why."

"Because you're not a nice person."

"You're referring to before."

His simple statement sent a shudder through my body, "You lied to me, no, I mean, everything you did back then was child's play. It was easy for you, but I can't begrudge you for being a man."

"For being a man?" His brow was cocked and his mouth had parted, "Because I'm a man I'm easily swayed by the female sex? Oh, wait, it gets better. Because I'm a man I can't keep it in my pants, is that it?" Paul made a hissing sound that made the hairs on my arm stand on end.

"As I recall you _couldn't_ keep it in your pants and _you_ were the one doing the swaying."

He looked a mite uncomfortable then, "I've…" Paul stopped and then another look came on his face. One that spelled triumph, "Were you swayed?"

"_Obviously_ and look where that got me." I said, shrugging as though it was no big deal.

"I didn't know." He began, backed up, and tried again, "I'm sorry…That day, the day we-"

I gave a fairly attractive snort, "You're sorry? Hell, if that was all it took…" _We'd be using this table for more than diplomatic reasoning._ Instead of saying my thoughts aloud I said, "Sorry is just a word. It has no action, just a meaning, and it's not seriously conveyed."

It was his turn to make a vocal gesture of disapproval, "Who knew you were so hardheaded? Do I have to include a Hallmark card? One of those that sing or would you prefer a teddy bear?"

"You can take that teddy bear and shove it up your-"

"Damn it Everlee May. Be quiet and let me speak." It was the first time he had raised his voice. I sat back, momentarily stunned before I risked a quick glance toward my room, just to see if Lynnie had awoken, but the door was still partially closed. He restarted, "That day we made love, I didn't know-"

"You can hardly call that making love." I interrupted again.

The skin over his knuckles started to turn white, "Then what would you call it, Everlee May? We had feelings for each other-"

I leapt up, "_You_ are the most _delusional_ person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I was a virgin that day." My voice trembled as I pushed on, "You have no feelings. Whatever I had felt for you back then, you played off of it, and pretended to care. Because that's the type of person you are. _You_, Paul MacAlister, are a tin man with no heart and no conscience."

He convulsed once, much the same way a person who suffers from seizures would, and then his face turned chilly in such a way that had me regretting my quick tongue, "Then I'll cut to the chase." Paul said brusquely, much as a businessman would who was selling a voucher for a million dollar account, "That girl is my daughter, correct? Lynnie is what you called her."

I almost denied it as I sat back down. Mr. Good-Looking was back to the way I remembered him- it hardened me. "_That_ girl's name is Madeleine." My fingers toyed with the edges of my hair, "She looks just like you. You can't deny the resemblance. She even has your allergies." I muttered the last part grudgingly.

"We had a daughter and you never told me. Would you have told me? Ever?"

"Why should I? You didn't deserve to know, still don't for all I care."

"You'll hang that sin in front of me every time, won't you?"

"Damn it, I have the right!"

"As I have the right to be with Madeleine as well!"

That stopped me dead. A right to be with Lynnie? Did I have an obligation to tell him about his child? What I had done was what I thought had been best. Paul couldn't want to take my baby away. He was a stranger to her, "What-what are…you saying…?"

His eyes zeroed in on something above my head, past into the living room, "You have a spare room. I would like to move into it." The room he was referring to hadn't been lived in since Cindy died. It was cleaned and dusted regularly, but no one slept there and I always made sure the door was closed.

"No." It was the only logical answer. Have Paul move in? Was he raving mad? Had Paul lost some brain cells with his last growth spurt? It seemed likely.

"I deserve to be able to move in. Of course, I'll pay rent if that's what you're worried about."

I bristled at the mention of money. "_Deserve_? Deserve my ass." I snapped, gripping the tabletop with such a force my wrist started to cramp.

He started to tick things off on his fingers never missing a beat, "You didn't tell me about her. You were never going to let me even know. I bet you haven't told Madeleine about me. Does she even know the word daddy? Does she know what it means, Everlee? Does she? It seems to me you're depriving her of something every little girl needs- a father. I'm here, willing, and _deserving_. If you'd only see past that day…"

A cold fist worked its way around my heart. Could Paul be a good daddy? I didn't know. That's the thing. I didn't know this new Paul and I didn't know if I was willing to give him that chance. He wouldn't be here if he didn't want the job that was entitled to him by default. A little girl needed her daddy, even I wished my father was more than he ever was, but I was stronger than my mother was. I wasn't a woman to be ruled or twisted, "What about the place you live in now." I asked cautiously.

"I live with a friend. Free to move whenever I choose."

"A lady friend?" It had slipped right off my untrustworthy tongue.

"That isn't your business."

"Damn if it isn't! If you were to move in here, I won't allow you to shack up whenever it strikes your fancy. There would be no lady friends coming over. Ever. Period. End of discussion." My fist thumped my legs as I ranted angrily.

A smug smile took form, "Jealous little vixen."

"Don't even start you rotten snake!" I fumed. My shaking hand reached out for the soda, nearly toppling it over. "I won't have strangers coming into my house. I don't even want you coming into my house."

"What's so bad about me? Besides being a _tin man_." He smiled at that, as if I was missing something important.

"Everything." I leaned back, trying to distance myself, "You were so bad to me Paul. How can I possibly let you live here and do the same thing to Madeleine? How do I know you won't be cruel to her? Or forget she's even here?"

Just for a moment he looked vulnerable, "I am sorry about that. Give me the chance to make things right. It can't have been easy."

"I've made it work without you for this long…"

"Doesn't mean you should have to." He countered.

I shouldn't have to, not with what I've been through.

Paul started again, "Now that that's settled…"

"There's more?" I asked incredulously, "You come into my house, making demands and there are even more of them? Just what are you about Paul?"

He propped an elbow and set his chin in the palm of his hand, "Magic." He said plainly and then chuckled at my confused look, "Never mind. My demands, as you call them, are easily solved with a little negotiation. That said, I want you to cut back on your job. For Madeleine and for me."

"_What_? You've got to kidding. Why would I cut back on my job when I just took on more hours?"

"Because I want you," Paul started to trace a pattern along the table, while I sucked in a deep, staggering breath, "too."

My skin broke out with a sudden chill that felt deliciously warm. "That's a deal breaker."

"We'll see."

I wasn't sure what he was talking about. That lazy desire that had suddenly flared or my job? I wasn't sure I cared all that much. "You should go now."

"Scared of being alone with me? A lot of people are. You wouldn't be the first." Was that contempt in his tone? If the remote expression was any factor, I'm sure he could shoot laser beams out of his eyes. Oh, he was just racking up on special talents today.

I stole another glance toward my room, "Earlier, Jared said people thought you—"

"They thought I killed you."

He said it so matter-of-factly I knew he had thought about it more than once, "Why would they think that?"

For once, he seemed deathly serious, "I was the last person, outside of your family, to see you. You left home in the middle of the night and disappeared. Stopped coming to school. That made everyone think I had done something wrong. Everyone assumed the worst."

"But why?" Had all this really happened and I'd been so unaware? "My parents didn't file a report, if they weren't worried, why would anyone else be?"

Paul rubbed his chin and drilled holes into the table with his eyes, "Around that time, I started to have problems."

"Problems?" I repeated.

"Problems I've put behind me, but they were enough to make people afraid."

He had purposely avoided saying what had been wrong back then and I was half tempted to pester him until I found out the reason. Instead I said, "_Should_ I be afraid of you?"

As if our conversation had never happened, he slipped right back into action, "I am very, _very_ dangerous."

"The only thing dangerous about you is…" I broke off at my own train of thought. My face was incredibly hot as if it were burning off. For all I knew it was.

Paul made a rich throaty sound as he caught on, "I think I'd like to try out that skill then…Should I become daring and seduce you, Everlee? See how much danger we can put ourselves in?"

I nearly choked while trying to convince myself he was kidding, but I had had enough. "_Out_. I want you out!" His welcome had been worn out. I was tired of looking at him, tired of my nerves standing on end, and most of all, tired of not being able to do anything about it.

When he stood, I noticed his clothes were mostly dry; at least he wouldn't catch a cold. Maybe if I hadn't offered him a towel he would have gotten so sick he wouldn't have bothered me for several, several, months. If I was lucky, he'd forget about me by the morning. That was a big _if_.

He stretched as he followed me toward the door, "I have one last question, before I leave."

I tightened the robe belt around my waist, "Spit it out."

"What happened earlier was due to feelings, Everlee. Those weren't superficial. They were intense and real. I could have had you then and you know it."

Just when I thought the blush from earlier was fading, a crimson flush rose its way over my cheeks and nose. Here it was. Paul thought he could take me whenever he got hard or the mood suited him best or if he just felt like fucking. He was in for a rude awakening. "You listen to me, Paul, if and when I want you in my bed, you'll know it. If I sleep with you again, it will be my doing and on my terms. Not any sooner and no lousy feelings will be involved."

That alone had him stiff and hard; it was amazing to know I had such power. That is, until I was pressed against the wall, a big thigh kneeing apart my own. Spasms of sensation shot down through my belly. "When a woman is a tease, it only makes me try harder. Beware, Everlee May, I may be a tin man, but I _am_ a man."

His face pressed into the side of my neck and I felt the quick rasp of his tongue. A soft moan escaped before I caught my breath, "And you MacAlister will do well to watch your back." My hand clutched at his shoulders, digging in, and then roaming to find his long spine. The muscle rippled beneath my hand.

"Are you baiting me?"

"I wouldn't _dare_." I mocked.

He pulled back, just enough to look me long and hard in the eyes, "I'll start moving tomorrow."

"My door will be locked. Enjoy sleeping under the stars."

"Oh, I think you'll let me in Everlee. I think you'll let me in."

"In your dreams."

Since my body was positioned between his thigh, I could feel the ridge in his pants as his hips slowly circled, applying the slightest of pressure, while the leg between my legs did the same, "Don't worry." Paul leaned in once more and nipped my ear, "You're the only one who turns me on this much. I'll save everything for you."

"Don't be so sure of yourself."

"Oh, you'll let me. I guarantee it."

He moved off completely then. My legs felt mushy, but I'd be damned if I'd let him see that. With my back still braced against the wall, I stood my ground, hoping I wouldn't start shaking like an earthquake. "My time and place that's when I'll have you."

Paul was already halfway out the door by the time he said, "Wouldn't have it any other way."


End file.
